


Honestly

by cellophanerose



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Komahina Secret Exchange, M/M, sdr2 chapter 5
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-09
Updated: 2020-09-09
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:55:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26368291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cellophanerose/pseuds/cellophanerose
Summary: Hinata needs answers, but whether or not Komaeda is willing to give them is another thing entirely.
Relationships: Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito
Comments: 5
Kudos: 130





	Honestly

**Author's Note:**

> For the komahina gift exchange over on tumblr! For more-ofyou-tolove. The prompt was: "What if Hajime found out he was Kamukura before Chapter 6? How would Nagito react?"  
> I hope you enjoy!!  
> (This is the second time i've tried to post this, apologies!)

When Hinata opened his eyes, he began to fall. The plunging sensation turned his stomach inside out, and he strained his eyes trying to make out anything in the total darkness. He saw nothing, but for some reason, it didn’t make him panic. In fact, he had trouble feeling anything at all.

All at once, he was in a familiar scene: sitting at a desk surrounded by faceless - pointless - students. Though their figures weren’t defined, the pressure he felt from them was overwhelming as he started to sweat. He had to get away, he _had_ to get away, but how? Hinata was aware of his answer now, and could no longer look away. 

His desire to be talented, his all-consuming need to be anything other than himself, led him to the reserve course. Here, it was supposed to be better - at least, that was the lie he had been fed. But even as the scene shifted around him and the backgrounds changed, the heavy feeling wasn’t released. In fact, it seemed to be even worse here, as if the pressure building inside of him was working with its outside equivalent to tear him to shreds. It was too much, _far_ too much, as a distant yet familiar pain coursed through his head. For some reason, Hinata knew this is where it should have ended.

But it did not.

Instead, the scene stretched on and on until he was up and running. He knew, vaguely, that this was a memory and that he was breaking some sort of script, that maybe he was going too far, but the dream wouldn’t end and the pain became too much for him to bear. The hallway he ran through kept extending, as if offering him more and more chances to turn back.

He did not.

The scene abruptly shifted and at some point, he had stopped running. Everything was distorted as if someone applied a filter directly to his eyes. Hinata’s limbs moved on their own, taking up a casual pace. A terrifying sense of dread filled him, which was at war with the overwhelming feeling of calmness felt by his body. He caught a glimpse of something out of the window - a curtain of sharp black, but he didn’t have time to contemplate that as his body stopped at a door and reached out to open it.

_I have to stop, right now! Please!_

His body paid no heed to his mind as he passed through the threshold. A group of students seated around a table looked up at him as he entered, confusion visible on their features.

Hinata made one final bid to stop whatever this was and threw everything he had into stopping his own body, but it was to no avail.

“Who-” before the student had even started her question, Hinata was moving with lethal certainty and terrifying speed as he ripped though her. Blood splattered on his clothes as the other students cried out and jumped from their seats. There was no point though - for whatever reason, Hinata was inhumanly fast and strong as he continued to tear through the other students. As he took the last student’s life, he felt nothing. He walked over to the room’s window and only then did Hinata see himself: a grim figure with long black hair and eyes as red as the blood he spilled on his clothes. A stranger who shared his face. A brief and light feeling of disappointment flashed through him until he was once again left with nothing.

Hinata shot up from his bed and immediately ran into the bathroom. What little food he had eaten yesterday threatened to come back up as he hunched and cried over the toilet. Even when the retching stopped, his whole frame continued shaking with the force of his sobs.

There was no way that was real - logically, it was impossible...so why was guilt pouring out of every nerve of Hinata’s body? Guilt and regret were overflowing, but no matter how much he thought about it, he couldn’t make sense of it.

After what had to be at least a half an hour, Hinata stood up on unsteady legs to wash the sweat and tears off of his face. Every bone in his body ached and the shaking still hadn’t stopped as he turned the faucet on as cold as possible, collecting the water in his hands and throwing it in his face. He didn’t want to face himself, but he forced himself to look in the mirror to chase away the doubts in his mind. All the mirror reflected was a drained and sick-looking Hinata, with his normal green eyes and short brown hair. Hinata felt something akin to relief and made his way back to bed.

He sat on the edge of the bed, but couldn’t bring himself to lie down. Despite his body being exhausted, his head was buzzing with activity. He curled in on himself, clawing at his biceps and dragging his nails across the length of his arms. The sting felt good, but it wasn’t enough. He gripped harder and he tried to chase away the dream by digging his nails into his skin as deep as he could. He had stopped crying, at least.

...Was he capable of such atrocities? Hinata didn’t want to think so, but doubt needled his mind. That sort of directionless slaughter he saw could only be done by a monster, and now Hinata wasn’t so sure he wasn’t one.

A lot had happened earlier that day, he reasoned to himself. He had woken up on the brink of starvation and to another dead friend, learned from Komaeda that he really was just a talentless nobody, and then watched yet another classmate be executed after working through the class trial.

This was Komaeda’s fault, in the end. Komaeda had gone and unlocked those unpleasant memories of being a reserve course student. It was _easy_ to be mad at Komaeda, to shift all blame onto him, and Komaeda seemed eager to be contrarian and rude to everyone since learning Hinata’s true nature. But...if the earlier memories were true, what did that mean for his dream? What was that dark visage he had seen in the windows of the school? He was no murderer, or at least he thought.

Wasn’t Komaeda saying something to that extent? Right before the class trial, Komaeda went off on a seemingly unrelated tangent about some book.

_“The story is told from the point-of-view of a high school girl involved in a serial killer mystery…But when you get to the end...Surprise, surprise! The girl was actually the killer!”_

_“The protagonist is just a projection of the reader...And this projection turns out to be the killer… Which means...”_

“‘The killer you were looking for the whole time was inside of you all along,’ he said,” Hinata repeated Komeada’s earlier words to himself, shaken by the implications he only now picked up. He hastily jumped up as a revelation struck him.

“Komaeda said the Hope’s Peak file only contained information about me, and how I was from the Reserve Department, but...what if there was more to it than that?” From the start, Hinata knew Komaeda wasn’t divulging everything he had learned from clearing the Final Dead Room, but he was too caught up in learning he was a reserve student to question it further. Now, though…

“I - I need to know...!” Hinata was full of manic energy, as he rushed out the front door, forgoing even putting on his shoes, to go and confront Komaeda. His heart was pounding wildly in his chest as it became all too clear to him that Komaeda had found something in those files that caused such a shift in his demeanor, and the odds that it pertained to what Hinata had just dreamed were worryingly high. He didn’t bother to quiet his footfalls - if any of the remaining few classmates heard him, then so be it. It must have been past 2:00 AM, but Hinata could not bring himself to care as he slammed his fist against Komaeda’s cabin door. The lights inside the cabin flickered on and he heard Komaeda approaching the door. There was no turning back now.

The look of disdain was clear on Komaeda’s face when he opened the door, but he appeared awake and alert.

“Really, Hinata-kun, I knew that you lacked any talent, but your added lack of consideration or timing is appalling,” Komaeda sneered, as his eyes raked over Hinata. “...Are you even aware your arms are bleeding?” No, in fact, Hinata had completely disregarded anything else besides his current goal, bodily injuries and humiliation included.

“That’s not important,” Hinata urged, “Let me in.” Komaeda did not look impressed.  
“Hm, I would say it is important, seeing as how you’re getting blood on everything.” Those innocuous words hit Hinata with another wave of nausea as he knelt down and held his head in his hands. Komaeda’s eyes widened and he stood up straight from his casual leaning on the doorframe as he watched Hinata crumble in front of him and take loud, gulping breaths. Komaeda knew the signs of a panic attack when he saw them, and through the cocktail of feelings he was bottling up at the moment, a bizarre urge to help welled up.

“Get in here,” Komaeda said, as he kneeled down to hoist Hinata back on his feet, keeping in consideration his injured arms. After placing Hinata unceremoniously on his bed, he grabbed a cup of water and forced it in Hinata’s direction. It seemed to take a few seconds for Hinata to process this, but after Komaeda coaxed Hinata’s hands out of his hair, Hinata grabbed hold of the cup and began drinking. No words were exchanged as Komaeda flitted across his room, searching for something to clean and cover Hinata’s arms with.

Hinata kept his eyes trained on Komaeda while he finished his water and set the cup aside, unsure of what to make of the current situation. He had calmed down, somewhat, and was at a loss for how to now approach asking Komaeda for the file. In his march over here, he imagined demanding the file from Komaeda, letting his anger carry him through his thought-up scenario. But now, even after some snide remarks, Komaeda was running a wet towel over his arms, wiping off the blood and revealing the angry red marks that were easily identifiable. 

Komaeda kept his touch to a minimum and his mouth shut tight as he grabbed some bandages and began wrapping up Hinata’s arms. The wounds were clearly self-inflicted...of course learning you have no talent would be devastating, but had it really driven Hinata to panic and hurt himself? Or…

When Komaeda finished his bandaging, Hinata avoided eye contact when he mumbled a quiet ‘thank you’, which Komaeda responded to with a quick nod. Unsaid things hung heavily between the two of them. The energy that carried Hinata over here was long gone, but his desire hadn’t changed. Finally, he spoke up.

“I need to see my student profile, Komaeda.” ‘ _Ah, so it is about being a reserve,_ ’ Komaeda thought bitterly.

“Do you truly distrust me that much, Hinata-kun? Or do you need to see it in black and white to face the truth? Like I said, that’s all there was to it. Just the fact that you are talentless and desperate to be accepted by Hope’s Peak..” Komaeda wanted to be resentful, but he couldn’t muster up much anger in the face of Hinata looking so _small._

“There’s more, isn’t there?!” There wasn’t any desperation in Hinata’s voice like Komaeda had expected. All he heard was agony. Komaeda watched as angry tears welled up in Hinata’s eyes, threatening to overflow, causing Komaeda’s own eyes to prickle. “What did I _do…_?” Hinata whispered, most likely to himself. There was something happening behind the scenes that Komaeda couldn’t see, and it scared him.

“Why are you here, Hinata-kun?” They both knew that Komaeda was asking a different question, but neither of them acknowledged it. Hinata didn’t answer him, choosing instead to stare blankly ahead. Just when Komaeda was ready to call out to him, he spoke up.

“You know that book you were talking about?” Hinata’s voice was surprisingly steady, as if he wasn’t fully there at the moment. Both the words and the tone caught Komaeda off-guard. “The one about the serial killer.” As if Hinata had to specify. Komaeda held his breath, knowing that whatever happened next was out of his control - he had simply poured gasoline near a fire ready to ignite. “Were the girl and the killer really the same person? Did she truly just...forget?”

Hinata’s cold stare landed squarely on Komaeda, eyes flickering with something intangible. It caused a shiver to run down his spine. “Or is it more accurate to say the girl we knew never existed?” Komaeda was pinned in place just from Hinata’s deadly glare - not that he would go anywhere, but the lack of control frightened him. He knew he had to choose his words carefully.

Unfortunately, it was easier said than done.

“Does it matter, in the end? Memories or not, a killer is a killer, right, Hinata-kun?” They were all Ultimate Despair - it didn’t matter how they got there, or that they didn’t remember it. Whatever Hinata had remembered, or thought he remembered, changed nothing. _It’s unforgivable. Unforgivable, especially for you, who was supposed to be the Ultimate Hope..!_

“Of course it matters!” Hinata rose to his feet in anger. “How am I supposed to know who I am if it doesn’t? The person I see...he isn’t me. Am I...Am I…?” Hinata gasped and held his throbbing head as angry tears started cascading down his face.

Did Hinata know? What Hope’s Peak had done to him? 

“His name - _my_ name - was...” The embers licked at both of their feet. All that was left was to _burn_.

“Izuru Kamukura.”

With those two words, the flames erupted to life around them. Komaeda’s heart beat hard against his chest, as if trying to escape the inferno. He held his breath, uncertain if there was any air left in the room.

“But I’m not him…! Right? Komaeda?! Am I the lie, or is he?!” With dizzying speed, Hinata was in front of him, hands latched onto Komaeda’s arms. “Would I even want to exist if that...that _thing_ was really me?” Desperate for an anchor, he leaned his body against Komaeda until Komaeda was forced to put his arms around his waist so they wouldn’t fall.

_But if we could fall together, maybe that wouldn’t be so bad._

“So you have to tell me,” Hinata’s voice rumbled against Komaeda’s shoulder. The entire situation was completely overwhelming, both mentally and physically. Komaeda had never been this close to anyone. He felt needed - something he couldn’t remember happening before, and that heady sensation may be why the tight grip on his façade had loosened, even for himself.

He couldn’t bring himself to hate Hinata, no matter how much he tried. The Hinata he knew didn’t deserve even a fraction of what Komaeda was currently facing alone. Komaeda was willing to put his life down for the sake of hope, and despised despair with every fraction of his being. This was a fact. Komaeda was also in love with Hinata - well-meaning, hapless Hinata who admired hope, was strong in so many ways Komaeda wasn’t, and was loved by everyone. This was also a fact. These two conflicting truths warred in his mind constantly since he learned their shared history. Lashing out at everyone, especially Hinata, felt good, or at least he had originally thought. Now though, seeing Hinata so hurt that he would go to even _Komaeda_ for resolution, he felt a strong pang of regret. Would any of this have happened if he didn’t reveal anything about the student files? Would he still have torn up his own arms? Even now, Komaeda was hurting Hinata, by not telling him the full truth, by letting Hinata be held by someone who would betray him, who would die. His next words fell out of his mouth without his permission.

“I’ll tell you what I know about him. Call it a farewell present, to the you I…” ‘Thought I knew’? ‘Loved’? It didn’t matter. Komaeda did not let himself fall further than he already had. Hinata’s face was still buried in Komaeda’s shoulder, but the grip he had on Komaeda’s biceps tightened, signalling that Komaeda had his attention.

“Like I told you, you were just a reserve course student, completely ordinary with no stand-out traits. Maybe it was that complete lack of any semblance of talent that made them choose you - or maybe it was just luck.” Komaeda poured all of his strength into keeping his voice steady and even, to reveal as little as possible, but even he had to scoff at the phrase ‘just luck’. “In any case, you were chosen for an experimental procedure which would theoretically implant talent into you. You would have every talent the school had ever seen, truly someone worthy of being Ultimate Hope.” Komaeda paused to imagine it, and to steel himself for the next part.

“However, instead of becoming a beacon of hope, Kamukura was just as bad as the others. Ah, but I’m no better, either...” Komaeda didn’t feel the need to specify who the others were or what that meant. He had a feeling Hinata wouldn’t care once he heard what came next. “The file said there wasn’t a trace of Hinata Hajime left in him. Whether it was intentional or not I don’t know, but you no longer existed.” Komaeda heard Hinata’s sharp intake of breath and felt him stiffen. “And that’s where it ended.” Komaeda may have been feeling sentimental, but to say anything more than that would put his plans in severe jeopardy. He couldn’t risk Hinata knowing the whole truth and piecing together Komaeda’s intentions. None of this mattered in the end, he told himself, even if the thought caused his grip on Hinata to tighten. They stood in their awkward embrace for a while, before Hinata finally regained some composure and took a step back. He didn’t even have the energy to feel embarrassed. Instead, he felt as if a chasm had opened up and was ready to swallow him whole. After he was able to convince himself that he wasn’t going to disappear, he forced himself to ask Komaeda something he couldn’t possibly know the answer to.

“Then...who am I?” Hinata let out an empty laugh. “You said that I stopped existing, but that’s a lie, right? Right now, everything feels too real, and I can’t deny that what I feel is real, too. Maybe I’m in hell for killing all of those people...maybe that’s how a ghost can mistake himself for a human. There isn’t a single thing about me that was ever real, is there?” Hinata’s mind and mouth were both wandering, looking for a truth to latch onto. “In the end, I must just be a well-made lie.” And isn’t that depressing? Being a lie who had forgotten along the way that he was a cheap imitation of something that may have once existed - being something fake, yet still forced to feel this all-real pain.

“You’re wrong.” Hinata jolted at the fierceness with which Komaeda said those two words. Some color came back into his sight, and for once, he felt something other than dread pounding in his heart.

“To me, you’ll always be Hajime Hinata. You exist as you are now, whether you like it or not. Maybe to anyone else you aren’t real, but you are to me.” Hinata looked at him owlishly, and Komaeda’s blood immediately drained from his face. _That was too much_ . “ A-A talentless reserve like yourself isn’t allowed to decide if he’s real or not. Quit acting so presumptuous, forcing your worldview onto everyone else.” He sounded like he was trying to convince himself, as well. _This is ridiculous._ Komaeda was now looking everywhere but Hinata, willing his heart to quit beating so fast. It almost worked, too, until he heard a muffled sob coming from Hinata. 

His eyes locked back onto him, who was covering his mouth with one hand while using his other to blindly feel behind him for the bed and, without fanfare, crashed into it. His hand fell from his mouth, releasing with it the sound of unhinged laughter. His face was contorted into a hysterical grin and tears were once again gathering in his eyes. Komaeda had no idea how to deal with this, so he didn't. He wasn’t sure his voice would reach Hinata like this, anyways.

“Of course you would say something like that,” Hinata said breathlessly as the laughter died down. Hinata looked at Komaeda - truly looked at him for perhaps the first time, without being blinded by admiration or hurt or betrayal, and felt a slurry of emotions, but above all, a connection. A desire to get closer. A hope that, maybe someday, when everything was over... 

Things clicked into place for Hinata while on the other hand Komaeda was absolutely baffled. He gets the distinct feeling that he’d been caught somehow, though. He certainly felt transparent - so transparent, in fact, that unless he stopped this now, Hinata would see through to his desires and try to stop him. What’s worse is that Komaeda was sure Hinata wouldn’t have to try all that hard to convince him to want to _live_ , and that thought was frightening. His mind flashed back to hospitals and diagnoses that served as death sentences. He cannot - _will not_ \- cling desperately to a life that will soon be over when he could at least use his death in a meaningful way.

While Komaeda stewed in his own thoughts, Hinata began reaching out to grab his hand when suddenly the gravity of the situation hit him like a brick house. He just let Komaeda comfort him, and that comfort caused Hinata to see things that weren’t there. He came to Komaeda to get answers about himself because he knew Komaeda wasn’t telling him the whole truth. Who’s to say he wasn’t hiding more? The feeling welling up inside Hinata was far too dangerous, and he snatched his hand back as if he’d been burned. He had felt _so sure,_ but the doubts still started creeping in. Komaeda caught the motion as he stared at Hinata, hurt and relief warring in his mind. Hinata stood up suddenly, eyes glued to the floor. He needed to get out, he had too much on his mind, _he can’t deal with this_ -

“I’m sorry, I can’t…”

“...Me neither.”

What appeared to be an agreement masked the multiple layers of misunderstanding and fear, but they were both stubborn and scared, so they let it fall. Hinata took a shuddering breath and walked to the door. It hurt too much to face Komaeda as he said, “Thanks for everything.” He heard Komaeda hum in response, but couldn’t see the despair swirling in his eyes.

“Goodbye, Hinata-kun.” And, without another word, the night ended.

Days later, when Hinata is crouched beside Komaeda’s corpse, he thinks, ‘ _Ah, so this really is hell._ ’

“Goodbye, Komaeda.”


End file.
